


Ode on Melancholy

by OctopusMaps



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cannibalism, Dark Will, Domestic, Gen, Hannibal is Hannibal, M/M, Mental Instability, Murder, Puppies, Will is still sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-14 06:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1256176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctopusMaps/pseuds/OctopusMaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is sick and sent away on a little holiday with Hannibal. A little domestic, a little angsty and as a whole not great for poor Will Graham.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Condensation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlueHareGame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueHareGame/gifts).



> I haven't written a fic in a long long time. Please comment and kudos to let me know how I'm doing :).
> 
> The title of this fic is based off the poem Ode to Melancholy by John Keats as is the quote in the first chapter. It is a poem about depression and overcoming it by not submitting to it and rejoicing in nature and the fact you still exist. Much like Will holding onto knowing who he is and not letting himself get swept into Hannibal's madness fully.
> 
> \- updated to correct a few issues I didn't like in the chapter. Thanks for all the kudos!

_For shade to shade will come too drowsily_

_And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul_

**_John Keats, Ode to_ ** **_Melancholy_ **

Will wakes with a start, fingers clenched out on the table in front of him feet kicking out against the smooth dark wood of the floor sliding with dampness.  On the table in front of him is a small white china bowl filled with cubed fruits and a tall glass of water. He watches the condensation on the glass for a moment struggling to arrange his thoughts, feeling as though his body was encasing him floating inside. A sudden click startles him and his eyes are drawn to a carved wood clock on the wall. He follows a little wooden man coming out of a tiny painted door to conduct an orchestra of simply painted bell ringers who stand to attention in a balcony that rolls out above. Against them the conductor is richly painted and Will thinks of Hannibal as the conductor in his tiny painted suit and twisted red smile watching as waves his stick at the featureless wooden band. They jump to his will with three delicate rings before drooping and folding back into the clock as the conductor turns, takes his bow and leaves.

Shaken from his revere and with clarity returning Will goes in search of Hannibal. He doesn't remember getting there and putting a hand to his chest he feels his shirt is damp with sweat and sticking to his body but cold to the touch. He wiggles his toes, they are bare and filthy, his soles  red where they can be seen and he begins to feel the pain of blisters. He can’t have walked the whole way here alone, he wonders if he is dreaming. His body is still numb but the discomfort from his feet and the agony behind his eyes tells him he must be awake. He continues his careful padding through Hannibal’s halls, eyes flicking over countless paintings that probably cost more than his little house in Wolftrap alone, his home where he had been when he fell into a discomforted sleep.

Hannibal materializes from a door to his left and Will jumps stepping back into a fine elm sideboard dislodging a smooth carved marble bust, one half of its head open to show the brain inside in black obsidian. Hannibal lunges deftly catching the statue as it tumbles and holding it up with a slight smile he looks to Will brightly.

“Will, I am sorry” reaching around Will to replace the statue his eyes kindle in the dark hallway, “ I was just setting up the guest room, “ he pauses to look over the other man, “Did you eat?, did you drink?”

“No… I….” Will frowns down at himself again averting his eyes from Hannibal’s scrutiny, “Hannibal how did I get here?

“You were asleep when you arrived here but responsive. You had driven part of the way, I have called the police and they have found your car 4 miles from here. It has been impounded. It is 3:14 AM you are in Baltimore Maryland” resting his hands on Will’s shoulder gently he catches his eyes once more, “It is ok Will, please, come and have something to eat”

Sliding his hands to Will’s elbow he leads him into the room he just left. Inside is a vast bedroom, the walls a pale blue set against grey wood flooring with a large antique bed. Above the bed a great painting of a hunt, a herd of large brown horses a black one at its lead reared up eyes wild as its rider blows a silver horn. In front of the horses cowers a small red fox its teeth bared in a snarl, ears back eyes alight with fire. Wrapping his arms around himself suddenly self-conscious at his state of semi-undress he took in Hannibal’s attire for the first time. He wore a black silk dressing gown over light cotton pyjamas so well fitted Will wondered if Hannibal had them tailored along with his suits. Smiling the doctor showed Will to an armchair besides a table in the corner of the room, pulling on the blinds to shut out the first rays of sunlight that had begun to spread into the cool room. Outside the sounds of birds heard softly in the distance as Hannibal quietly left the room, he returned moments later with the fruit bowl in tow. Will watched as he moved placing the fruit bowl with a flourish and a quirk of his eyebrows. Blushing at the thoughts that flooded his mind as he watched Hannibal stride across the room to show Will the door to his on-suite he awkwardly folded himself further into the armchair.

“Please make yourself at home Will, I believe the stress that Jack has been putting you under may have caused this” waving his hand at Will, “situation and as such have requested you take leave effective immediately. You can stay here until the morning then I suggest you go somewhere Jack can’t reach for a while”

“Thank you” Will sighs into his hands and picks at the fruit as Hannibal buzzes around the room laying out sheets and a change of clothing.

“I will return in a little while, get some rest” taking the dish Hannibal leaves just as quickly as he appeared leaving Will in the cool half-light of the bedroom alone. The chill of the room suddenly clings to him and it’s as though the sun has gone suddenly behind a cloud. Yawning he pads across to the bed and sits on the edge sinking slowly into the cotton sheets he closes his eyes.

He is adrift on a river in a little wooden boat hands handing over the edge drifting into water and making trails in the smooth surface. Above him a flock of birds take off from the trees on the shore circling and floating in the air. Will smiled as he felt a cold nudge against his wrist, looking down he laughed, “Winston, what are you doing here?” he runs his hands through Winston’s fur as he curls up next to the profiler and looking back up to the birds. There are more now, circling and spinning in a circle, more and more joining till they fill the sky a solid black. The water began to churn around Will, Winston began to whine. Will gathered him closer now sitting up and tucking himself into the corner of his boat, watching as the water around them began to bubble. The now black and squawking sky spiked downward, a million shining pointed beaks flying towards the boat. Will panicked slamming his back into the edge of the boat and tossing himself into the water, struggling for breath he fell onto the bed with a scream tangling himself in the once perfectly placed sheets. Will's scream stuck in his throat like a punch, leaving his mouth as a high pitched wail and leaving him breathless across the expanse of the bed clenching his hands in the cotton and once again struggling to place his reality.

Hannibal returns with the water and Will thinks his throat is quite dry, if Hannibal noticed the screaming he made no indication of it. Will checked the sleek silver clock on the side table, 4:03AM, Will felt like he hasn't slept in weeks. Sitting from his prone position he avoids Hannibal’s concerned assessing gaze and scoots backwards till he is lent against the plethora of cushions at the head of the bed. Taking the water and a tablet from Hannibal he settles back into the pillows to catch his breath not hearing the kind words that Hannibal is supplying but using the calming tone of his accents cadence to lull him to a dreamless sleep at last. Before he closes his eyes he feels a burning hand at his forehead. Hannibal is checking his temperature, his face so close to Will’s or was he stroking his hair, Will doesn't mind, he actually finds it quite comforting.


	2. Immersion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is at his cabin and Hannibal arrives.

**_Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right._ **

**_I have been one acquainted with the night._ **

_Acquainted with the night, Robert Frost_

****

Will awoke mid-afternoon his head feeling like he hadn't drank in days, his mouth tacky and dry but he felt surprisingly good. He laughed to himself, Hannibal was right just being away from his home one night had given him some peace. It's because Hannibal was there his psyche added unhelpfully and Will shook his head. Sliding out of the voluptuous bed and onto the cool floor he took his time to adjust to the calm and stillness in Hannibal’s house. His own home was a maul of noise, warmth and chaos. Normally he would wake early to let his dogs out. The thought struck him and Will headed for the kitchen to arrange care for his beloved pets.

Here he found a note written beautifully on thick card.

_Will, I apologise for leaving you alone but I have previous engagement that I must attend to. I have left a meal for you in the fridge. Please eat these before you take the pills I have supplied in your bathroom. I have contacted a neighbour who has agreed to check upon your dogs, a delightful woman Mrs Wilson. I shall see you this evening._

_Hannibal_

Will laughed at the domesticity of it all and when he opened the fridge to find a small salad with his name on it his stomach flooded with a warmth he was scared to put a  name to. Picking a salad he returned to his careful exploration of Hannibal’s house marveling at the intricacy and care put into every item. It reminded Will of doll houses with tiny electric lights and carefully positioned occupants whose clothes never fit quite right. Finishing his fruit he put the bowl in Hannibal’s sink and imagined the doctor coming home to Will washing the pots, asking him about his day, wrapping his arms around him. Shaking his head to rid his mind of domestic thoughts he headed for the shower.

Standing beneath the spray he allowed the thoughts to return this time with more vigor and less chaste. Grinning a wicked grin Will thought of little else until he was startled by a sharp rapping at the door.

“Will?”

Shit, he thought climbing clumsily out of the claw foot tub beneath the shower and wrapping a towel around himself. Opening the door he found Hannibal dressed in a dark green check suit and his face flushed at the knowledge of what he had been doing with Hannibal standing just outside.

“Sorry, err…I hope you weren't waiting for me long…”

“Only a few minutes I was just concerned you may have come to some harm” Hannibal smiled and his eyes raked Will’s bare chest, darting towards his towel and raising his eyebrows, “I didn't mean to disturb you” a salacious smile and his eyes moved towards the tablets left on the bathroom counter behind Will, “I shall wait in the kitchen, please don’t forget your medication” he added with a faux stern glower and turned sharply on his heels to exit the room.

Will grimaces at himself in the bathroom mirror and takes the medication with a grumble. Taking the clothes Hannibal put out, a red knit jumper and a pair of black slacks, probably the least formal clothing Hannibal owned and Will had a moment of imaging Hannibal in them before putting them on. They were slightly baggy but they smelt of Hannibal and were warm and clean, not what could be said of Will’s own clothing. A sweat-soaked t-shirt and boxers which had, now looking around, seemed to have disappeared from the floor. Will once again colored in embarrassment at the thought of Hannibal picking up his clothing while he had been showering.

Entering the kitchen he found Hannibal reading from a cookbook lent elegantly against the units in his kitchen, on the counter in front of him two portions of meat.

“Your clothes are just drying Will” Hannibal smiled guessing at Will’s thoughts, “Have you put any thoughts as to where you will go? Your official letter of leave arrived this afternoon.”

“I have um… a cabin I can go to.” Will stuttered wrapping his arms around himself, he felt self-conscious in Hannibal’s kitchen, wearing Hannibal’s clothes like he was being consumed by the doctor. “Is that your pressing engagement? I thought you weren’t meant to be back till this evening” Will said nodding his head at the meat and making Hannibal laugh.

“Well my appointment was quicker than I had planned.” Stepping forward and opening a draw he took out a clean linen apron, shaking it out and sliding it over his head he tied it with a quick twirl of his fingers.  “I felt perhaps a quick trip to my butcher could provide us with an early lunch before you leave. I will give you a lift home.”

Will nodded, grateful for Hannibal’s kindness and stood forward to rest his hands on the counter, waving his hand for Hannibal to continue, eager to provide an opportunity for Hannibal to show his culinary prowess.

“Tonight’s meal is pork shoulder in a Sicilian lemon and orange glaze….”

* * *

 

A sharp knock woke Will from his thoughts, getting up and nervously eyeing his surroundings he attempted to swipe the dog hair from his shirt and pants and went to the door. Opening the door he was met with the back of Hannibal’s head, thick wool coat turned up against the brisk wintry winds, a sleek brown leather suitcase in his hands. Hannibal turned and quirked his lips at Will and opening his, mouth to speak before a rush of dogs flew from the door behind Will, careful not to knock their master they banged into Hannibal with unbridled enthusiasm spreading out around the clearing and towards the water, jumping and frolicking in the thick grass surrounding the jetties edge. Some remained behind to jump up at Hannibal’s trousers leaving dusty muddy paw prints about his knees. Will hurried forward with a hasty whistle to call them off and a flick of his wrist sent them away.

“Sorry about that , they haven’t been out all night” Will shrugged and reached forward to take Hannibal’s bag, “there was a pack of wolves seen a few miles away last week” He offered in explanation and leading Hannibal into the house. Pausing for a moment he looked at Hannibal, “I hope that’s ok with you, they shouldn't come near here it’s just a precaution”

Hannibal shook his head the corners of his mouth dancing, “Predators hold no fear for me”.

Shifting a reluctant Winston with a nod he made room for Hannibal to sit which he did, perched upon the sagging brown blanket covered sofa he looked like a bird of paradise in a wheat field. Will licked his licks and watched as Hannibal’s eyes swept the entirety of his tiny cabin. A singular rectangle made of wood, kitchen tucked beneath a mezzanine with a ladder hanging to one side atop which was a mattress covered in sheets still carelessly rumpled from the night before. The only other door was to a small bathroom and the one room was dotted with dog beds and coffee cups, “Sorry it’s a little rustic hope you don’t mind” he said nervously picking up wayward dog toys and his fishing gear left beside the door.

“Please don’t feel uncomfortable Will I have been in many more rustic places then this, I find it quite charming” Hannibal takes off his jacket and stands to place it over the back of the chair besides will’s desk.

Averting his eyes from Hannibal’s back Will walks to the bathroom door and opens it to show his guest, “here’s the bathroom and ugh, you said you might stay a while“, he says pointedly to the suitcase in his arms “you can have the bed” he waves vaguely in the area of the mezzanine and it’s tatty mattress and sheets “I’ll have the sofa bed, you are my guest after all” he laughs nervously eyes still firmly at the floor.

“I’ll be quite comfortable on the sofa bed, you mustn't change your sleeping conditions on the account of me” he smiles kindly, “how have you been Will? When I saw you two weeks ago you had been having nightmares and sleepwalking correct?” he looks up from Will’s desk and his study of Will’s lures to the profiler standing uncomfortably at the edge of his sofa “Do they still plague you?”

Will laughs through a frown “I am more used to the dreams, it’s like coming to an old friend and I feel like I’m losing to them sometimes. I haven’t had any sleepwalking incidents though”

Hannibal shakes his head and walks over to him, feeling Will’s forehead for a temperature and taking his shoulders to catch his eyes. “You shouldn't lose grip on what is real Will, have the dreams changed in nature at all? Are you concerned?”

“No, I just wish I could understand. I feel that if I could just focus” Will puts a hand to his forehead and drops bodily onto the sofa, turning the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighing. “I have to befriend them to understand them”

It is Hannibal’s turn to frown as he begins to tidy around the profiler, “The diary? Has it not helped with your clarity?”

“Yes the diary has helped to identify themes but what of the meaning” Will sits up and digging in the cushions produces a black leather bound diary. A gift from Hannibal before he left, a diary for his dreams. “You want to read it?” Will supplements with an uncertain glance.

“Not if you don’t want me to” Hannibal smiles taking folded sheets from the linen cupboard besides the bathroom door

“No, no it’s fine” Will answers suddenly hating the domesticity and the care Hannibal is providing. He feels like he is smothering in a warm black cloud and it’s swallowing him seeping in his orifices and clinging to his clothes. Standing to aid Hannibal to pull out the sofa bed and lay the sheets as quickly as possible. “I’ll go get the dogs” He mumbles as Hannibal slips off his shoes, getting comfortable, and settles back to read the diary.

Stepping out onto the porch he breathes in the air freezing his lungs as it fills them. He whistles and the dogs come running swarming to him. They welcome him with nips and licks to his hands; he sits on the damp wood as they lay beside him. For the first time since Hannibal’s house he feels grounded and real, this quiet moment in the cool morning with his dogs beside him and Hannibal quietly reading inside he feels at home, and the domesticity doesn't bother him anymore.


	3. Dilution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They spend the day together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everybody so much for the kudos :)  
> The poem for this chapter can be found here.  
> http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=269707

**Fallen in to his bait, its too late, I got 7 lines on my dinner plate.**

**I'm covered up in snow, enjoying the amazing way to suffocate.**

**[Poet Destroyer A](http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poems_by_poet.aspx?ID=18720) **

 

Will wakes in a panic breath rushing from his lungs and sweat soaking his sheets, making his hair stick to his forehead. His body is numb and shaky as he clambers to the edge of his mattress with one hand dragging the thin cotton sheet behind him. Sliding down the wooden ladder he balls the sheets up and throws them next to the kitchen counter stripping off his saturated shirt. Two of his slumbering pack wake, one only raising their head before curling back into the furry mass, the other pads over to lick the salty sweat from Will’s legs, claws clicking across the bare wooden floor. A grateful grin and a pat on its head, Will eyes Hannibal’s sleeping form. He walks over beside him careful to make minimum noise on the creaking floor.

Even in sleep Hannibal is controlled, his body straight and with an air of heavy stalwartness that made him seem as though he was set into the mattress like a statue into rock. Eyes closed without even a perceived flutter, face peaceful but Will felt as though he was as ever under Hannibal’s watchful gaze. His hands, long fingers and wide square palms, folded on his bare chest legs crossed at the ankle. Will thought he looked unreal and the longer he watched the more unreal he became, his skin plasticizing, his eyes turning to glass beneath heavy lids, his mouth a painted curl on his pointed wooden features.

Leaning over the doctor to retrieve his diary from beside his head on the arm of the sofa Will got a waft of the rich scent of Hannibal. Breathing it in a moment he caught himself with a hiss and straightened up looking guiltily over to his dogs. Not catching his glance they settled once more into their peaceful slumber.  Taking a seat at the tiny kitchen table he put both of his feet flat on the cold wood floor, breathed in and begun to write, closing his eyes to recapture the images from his sleep. A sudden gust of cool air and a presence behind him shook Will from his writing. Turning he found himself in direct eye contact with a rather under-dressed Hannibal, his silken pajamas clinging just so to the hips where Will’s eyes, in their hurry to flee from Hannibal’s contemplation,  landed with a blush.

“My apologies Will, I did not mean to frighten you” Hannibal said quietly backing away and circling the little table to lean against the kitchen sink, eyes surveying for a moment noting the sheets and Will’s own clothing situation, “Did you have another dream?” Will laughed and ran a hand down his face nodding. Sliding out of his chair he takes the sheets and his shirt from off the floor and dumps them in the sink as Hannibal deftly dodges and switches to rummaging in the small fridge and cupboards looking for food.

By the time the sun begun to break through the tiny dusty windows above the kitchen counters there were fresh sheets blowing on the line outside as dogs milled around on the grass, sniffing and playing in the undergrowth. Inside Will was seated at the table still not fully dressed but showered as a similarly clean Hannibal cooks a rather complicated egg dish from the few leftovers found in Will’s cupboards. Placing the dishes down either side of the table Will is reminded of their first breakfast together when Hannibal had been an annoyance and just another of Jack’s great ideas.

“I’m not hungry” Will looks away from the doctor and out of the windows to the water in the distance. He thought maybe he would go fishing today, the still waters helped to calm his mind after particularly bad dreams.

“A healing brain must be fed, a brain cannot live on thoughts itself” Hannibal supplied simply taking a bite of his eggs with a pleased smile. Hannibal his fork to the waistband of Will’s boxers haphazardly taken in with thick black cotton form his fishing kit and raises his eyebrows.

“Oh you want to fatten me up? Speaks to your mothering side don’t you think?” Will retorts with a shuffle in his seat , adding under his breadth "And I didn't think my brains was sick".

They spend the rest of the day in companionable silence, Hannibal reclining on the sofa Will’s diary in hand reading it with an interest and intensity that Will began to regret allowing Hannibal access. Every now and then the silence would be punctured by Hannibal’s mutters of glee at the symbolism inherent in the dreams, and occasional questions to clarify meaning. Will fidgeted around the doctor with his lures, brushing his dogs and lying among them on the cool dry grass outside watching the water when he grew weary of the questions.

Will didn't much mind the cold; it made him feel grounded and solid like the cold earth at the bottom of a hole. Breathing in the fresh air, the smell of the trees and the water filling him and clearing his mind of every thought. He remained outside for the rest of the day even as the warm sun rose to its highest, cooking the cotton of the shirt Hannibal had insisted Will wear if he went out and making the heavy boots he wore without socks hot and uncomfortable. Kicking them off Will spread his toes against the ground and smiled. It was times like this away from the truth of life he was content.

Hannibal in the meantime was immersed in a dream about a stalking black beast, a stag with feathers. The third such mention of this beast and the second in which Will was the one chasing the animal. Will had described it a number of times as a creeping companion, seeping into his life, his best friend. Will had underlined this phrase in every entry as though it held significance to him he couldn't explain; Hannibal tapped the pages of the book with the corner of his thumb and smiled to himself.  Will was seeking a constant companion, so was Hannibal.

 

* * *

 

That night Hannibal lay on his bed listening to Will fall asleep. Soon the profiler began to shake and shudder, sweating and moaning. His face pulled into a horrified grimace, hands clawing desperately at his throat. Hannibal climbs the few steps at the bottom of the ladder and watched this with interest. Will is beautiful in the low light of the cabin, his torment a stunning painting across his agonized features. Will bites his lips and curls his hands into fists, his nails drawing blood in his palms. Hannibal licks his lips at the scent of blood in the air and steps down.

He sense will wake above him as he busies himself with the coffee pot. Will wakes paining and Hannibal can hear him scrabbling around for purchase on the mattress. He is beside Will in an instant, a calming rock for Will to grasp as he grounds himself. The trust and relief in Will’s eyes when they finally focus on Hannibal makes him smile. He gathers Will to him and puts a hand to his hair “It is ok Will, I am here”.

 


	4. Overflow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is better but there is another case.

My life had stood--a Loaded Gun--   
In Corners--till a Day   
The Owner passed--identified--   
And carried Me away--   
  
And now We roam in Sovereign Woods--   
And now We hunt the Doe-- 

**My Life Had Stood - Emily Dickinson**

 

A week later Will sat on the deck of his tiny Cabin watching his dogs playing in the water. The weather had warmed since his arrival and now the trees were beginning to bud and the sun shone brightly sending a wavering light pattern across the roof of the porch. He breathed in the fresh air and felt normal again, grounded. His dreams continued but he felt them less. A gust of cold wind blew across the lake and a dark cloud sailed above to block out the sun, the water on the deck shaken from furry paw begins to attract insects and a wasp is caught in a larger puddle, struggling to fly away from the water, buzzing loudly as it drowns. Will furrows his brows and stand up, the weather begins to look like rain, and showers here are heavy but fast. With a whistle he calls his dogs home and enters the cabin amidst them on the hunt for towels.

Hannibal is seated at the table working furiously on his tablet. He continues his work with others towards the end of the week as Will begins to show signs of recovery. Every day Will grows more and more comfortable with their cohabitation. He kneels on the floor besides Hannibal’s tidy bed towel in hand; the sheets are turned out in immaculate fashion, small things of Hannibal’s dotted around; Will smiles. He could get used to this even for the moment, even if this moment must end.

As if it heard his thought his phone gives a shrill ring from the pocket of his coat hung besides the door. Releasing the dog currently in his towelling hold he looks to Hannibal with panic in his eyes. Hannibal smile and walks quickly to take the phone from the pocket and step smartly outside after inspecting its screen. Will waits behind in a state of worry and panic not moving but watching as Hannibal paces outside brows furrowed and mouth tight as he argues into the phone. He begins to shake his head as he hangs up and re-enters the cabin.

“I am sorry Will,”

“No I can’t….I’m not …I...” Hannibal walks forward and puts a comforting hand to Will’s shoulder.

“I will go with you and aid you through it Will. You must return to your work sometime and Jack has been gracious until now waiting. Unfortunately it would appear this particular case is escalating”

* * *

 

The case is not far away and they take a flight the next morning. Walking onto the plane Will is nervous he can feel electricity running through his body, sparking when he touches anything and it’s painful so he wraps his hands into his armpits and keeps from looking anyone in the eye. He has to gain some control before he can look. The steward smiles at him and Will can read the contempt in his face. They are in first class Will realises looking around with surprise, he looks down at his own dishevelled appearance and he is embarrassed. He feels a hand on the small of his back and looks up to Hannibal who smiles and pushes him forward to their seats. Will takes the window and Hannibal the seat beside him. He looks so comfortable here like Will is a black mark on a fine art painting of which Hannibal is the subject.

“I didn’t think the bureau paid first class” Will mumbles to give some excuse for the staring, shifting his eyes firmly back to the floor.

“No Will, I paid to upgrade, you should rest” There is concern in his eyes and his hand is comforting on Will’s wrist, “The flight is short and you should take advantage.” He pauses as the steward returns with a drinks list. Hannibal orders a glass of wine that clearly impresses him and Will can see the hunger in his eyes for Hannibal and he hates him. Turning away from the conversation they strike up about the wines on board he sulks to his reflection in the window. His face is pale and tired but fuller then when he had arrived at the cabin and his eyes less dark with another’s murderous thoughts. He turns back when his name is mentioned. Hannibal is evidently bragging about Will and the pride with which Hannibal speaks to the man makes Will burn with triumph, smiling at the steward who’s eyes dart to the hand still on Will’s wrist with interest turning to disappointment. Will allows himself the daydream that they are together in the way this man thinks and he feels the triumph more.

Hannibal turns to him again and the steward hesitates for a moment but Hannibal’s attention is lost and he is dismissed without a word. Hannibal continues their conversation as though there had been no interruption and Will can tell the insignificance of the man that left. Hannibal hold few to his level that require thought from him and Will feels honoured to be counted among them.

“Will , you must tell me if you feel you cannot continue while we are there, your mind is not as rested as I would wish and Jack must have his way with it  for now ,though I would much rather that I would have mine.” The hand tightened lightly and Hannibal’s face is filled with a concern even deeper than before.

Will flushes at Hannibal’s wording but if Hannibal recognises the implication he makes no sign. Hannibal turns back to steward who had returned with his drink. The steward is pretty with dark brown hair and sparkling green eyes and blushes all smiles in his red vest nodding and bending to Hannibal’s effortless charms. Hannibal leans close and gives low instruction to him and Will can feel the lust burning off him like a flammable gas. Soon a meal that is above what would even be expected of first class is brought before them and the steward was given a reward of a smile from Hannibal before being dropped once more for the attention of Will. But Will was lost in his empathy for the steward, jealousy aside he could feel the steward, hot and uncomfortable in his uniform; he is nervous a puddle beneath Hannibal’s charms, he would do anything he wished but it wasn’t just attraction. Attraction was there of course but there was something else. A darker current in his careful makeup, something deep and dark. A danger that exuded from Hannibal that threatened to swallow a person whole. This man who saw the ebbs and flows of humanity every day in his job had seen in Hannibal something that terrified and attracted him at the same time, something terrible but beautiful all the same something…

“Will?”

Broken from his trance Will saw a confused Hannibal across from him place a bowl in front of him , his hands raised to either side of Will’s face hands wide and warm against his skin thumbs rubbing slightly, “Are you ok?”

“Yes, yes I am sorry” Will turns to break their contact and takes up his fork eating to deter further questions, avoiding the doctor until he begins to eat too.

* * *

 

They arrive at a small motel and Hannibal turns his nose up at the décor as they enter setting his suitcase down on the bed closest the door. Will realises they are sharing and hesitates to say something thinking better of it he throws his own bag to the other bed and makes for the door.

“Will where are you going?”

“To the crime scene?” Will looks to the car with confusion.

“That can wait till the morning; you will be no help to Jack unless you sleep.”

“But it needs to be fresh” Will spits out with disgust and Hannibal looks at him in pity.

“The last scene is already gone”

“Then why are we here?”

“We expect more” Hannibal replies simply, inclining his head.

“And we are just going to let another one die just because I wasn’t there the last time?” Will is panicking and Hannibal walks to him taking his wrist in his hand again.

“Will you could not have saved those people as much as you cannot predict when the next victim will come. We will go to station tomorrow morning and you can look at the body and the photos and you can try to help. However you will not be able to do your job and save those people if you are not well”

Pulling him slightly he leads will back inside and to his bed. He smiles as will sinks into the sheets falling to sleep almost immediately. Going to his bag he pulls out the bottle of medicine and paces it on will’s side table.

 

-

The case is as gruesome as usual and Will has a hard time making himself look even at the photographs. Two men stabbed to death and lain in an alley facing each other, backs against the grimy walls their hands held up between them by long blonde strands of hair as though they were making a cats cradle. Both were undressed to the middle a series of incisions in chevron patterns across their chest permeated by the stab wounds, skin pale and grey against eh dark red of the blood covering the walls behind and below them.

“The dna doesn’t match either of the victims but there is a familial relation to this man” Beverly points to the darker haired victim, “The hair does looked like it was pulled out with some force though”

“Any idea who they are?” Will asks from clenched teeth, the pictures fill him with rage, these men are connected, connected by the girl, “It’s about her, find them find her”


	5. Maceration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things goes worse for Will. A very small chapter but I had to.

But I recognised death   
With sorrow and dread,   
And I hated and hate   
The spoils of the dead.

**The Spoils of the Dead, Robert Frost**

 

The case drags on and three more bodies drop in as many days. Will doesn't sleep despite Hannibal’s careful protestations, Jack pushes and changes Will’s mind every time Hannibal wins. He lies awake at night instead, staring as the lights from cars strobe across the ceiling and imagines the pain and loss of the killer. They took her and now he will take them all, they thought they could just play away with her, well who is the toy now? He laughs to himself a low chuckle deep and throaty and Hannibal’s eyes gleam in the darkness turned towards him, quizzical.

“Will, are you still awake?” He gets up slowly as though he was trying not to wake him, his body tense as he stalks the floor, for a moment Will’s heart leaps to his chest and he feels an urge to run from Hannibal’s slow advancement. The moment is lost and the usual need to run towards Hannibal returns like a dull ache. Tutting Hannibal reaches to his bedside table and takes out two tablets.

“Please take these” His fingers are rough to the touch against Will’s lips but he swallows them dry, eyes sad and reluctant against the determined gleam of Hannibal’s eyes in the dark. Nodding Hannibal walks back to his seat beside the table and Will is bereft of his presence so close in the quiet of the hotel room. Slowly he sinks back onto the sheets. He muses for the moment of their cleanliness before he feels sleeps cold dark hands begin to tug at the corners of his eyes. He struggles to keep his eyes open, fighting against the inevitable dreams he isn't ready to have.

* * *

 

Will is running through the streets, free; Air in his lungs running, running but he's being chased and he likes it. Smiling he looks over his shoulder and sees the thunder clouds rolling up behind him so close to swallowing him whole. He leaps over a log as he enters a darkened wood, trees twisted and dark around him shifting slightly in freezing winds. Now he’s laughing, flitting between the trees, he falls and turns back as mist envelops him. Hands take him by the shoulders and a tongue in his mouth pressing him into the dirt his eyes falter closed as his hands card through silken hair and he moans into the kiss. His hips rut against the other but a hands on his hip stills him and they both stop eyes opening as they watch the frightened man stumble on the rough ground ahead of them. In an instant they are running chasing again. The man is scared stumbling and falling as he looks back at Will eyes wide small cuts on his face from the branches he runs blindly into. But Will toys with him keeping just enough distance that he may close it in a second. He is hungry for the catch, for the kill, it thrills through him sparking to his fingertips. Turning to his side he smiles at the other whose eyes alight with fire and lust for him, encouragement smiling. He drags the kill to the dirt, stabbing down into the man, feeling the rush as his blood spills from the wounds; light dying in his eyes and power in Wills hands. A kiss to his neck hands running across his body suddenly the world tilts and turns his stomach drops and the moonlight becomes bright as fluorescent bulbs and the dead man’s skin is sickly grey in the light and his blood hot sticky and uncomfortable.  Will’s hands smeared across his clothes the comforting warmth behind him gone and he turns to see a stag lent low to the ground, snarls curling with steam in the moonlight; it threatens to impale him, its eyes dark pits that threaten to swallow Will whole. He wants to empty his stomach and turns back to the body but now it is hoisted onto antlers and swinging in the air blood running in river from it and pooling at his feet. It lifts its hands and places it cooling and calming on his shoulder.

“Will?”

Will comes back to his body in dregs. He can feel his knees cold and wet, his clothes are damp and he is shivering but he is viewing from inside. He looks at his arms, they seem unnaturally close and the goose pimples on his skin are strangely large. His eyes can’t focus and there is a whispering under his hair and behind his eyes. A hand is on his bare shoulder and the buzzing under his skin congregates at the meeting point between their skin. He looks up, he realizes he is hunched over on the floor.

“Hannibal? Nonono… not safe” Will pulls a desperate face and fire is in his lungs, buzzing in his head and sweaty jaw clenched “I'm not safe don't come near me” He throws a splayed hand back towards the doctor and it seems further from him like it belongs to someone else.

“Will what is it?  How are you not safe?” Hannibal kneels himself and Will has enough clarity to cringe at the thought of Hannibal’s perfect suits dirtied from the floor of this alley. He looks down the length of the alley and it starts to rain a fine soaking rain.

“He's still here “Will rubs a filthy finger to his temple leaving a black mark.

“The killer?” Hannibal frowns and takes Will arms bringing him to his feet with little fight.

“He....won’t...can't get rid, I can feel him” Will clutches at Hannibal’s clothes, eyes wide and wild.

Hannibal moves his hands to Will’s shoulder taking the knife still grasped in his hand gently.

“It’s OK, your name is Will Graham it is 3:02 pm and you are in Greenhaven, Baltimore” Gripping harder on Will’s shoulders he repeats, “You are Will Graham” his fingers stab into Will’s collarbones but the pain grounds him to his body, “Come Will, we will go home to the cabin” Hannibal smiles helping Will into his coat and out of the alley. He feels anger wash up through him, they are breaking his favorite toy and he can’t allow that, something must be done.

 


	6. Clepsydra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is taken back to the cabin.

Others because you did not keep  
That deep-sworn vow have been friends of mine;  
Yet always when I look death in the face,  
When I clamber to the heights of sleep,  
Or when I grow excited with wine,  
Suddenly I meet your face. 

**William Butler Yeats**

 

Hannibal is mad, madder than even he expected to feel. Will is breaking incorrectly, too fast despite even the medication Hannibal had been giving him. The only way to get Will now is to nurse him back to health, the illness didn't work but the trust inherent with those who aid us can be useful. Steps must be taken and a change in the manner of his tools. If he can cure Will and control his mind then surely Will could join him in seeing the true potential of a gift such as his. Hannibal would first have to remove the source of his pain and then give him back his clarity; once his sanity is owed to Hannibal he may play with it as he pleases.

 

* * *

 

When Hannibal pulls Will from the car wrapped in his thick woolen coat, water making both their hair glitter beneath the street lamps and he is immediately accosted by Alana and Jack. For a moment there is silence and Will feels the scene like a tableau as a camera revolves around them. Suddenly there is movement and Alana’s high heels snap on the concrete like tiny gunshots and Will puts his hands to his ears as they echo around his head.

“Hannibal, Will! What’s going on?” She puts her palms warm against Wills cheeks and looks to the doctor desperately. Jack walks to them slower and views them with caution but he remains silent, his own thoughts a secret.

“Will has had a sleep walking incident; I would like to take him inside. Why are you here?” Hannibal asks pointedly taking Will’s shoulders again and guiding him towards the door past a rock steady Jack who reluctantly moves out of their way with a glance to Alana.

Will is shaking and his eye close as he is steered onto Hannibal’s bed, with a quick check on his eyes by Hannibal that is almost a caress the doctor is gone and Will is alone in the dark room watching them pace and argue outside. Alana breaks away face drawn tight and worried as she enters the room and kneels at Will’s bedside.

“What’s going on?” Will asks shifting still in Hannibal’s coat till he was sitting, squinting against the light that shines from Alana’s skin. She is golden like an angel to him and her eyes glow with a pale light.

“There was another body, we came here to find you but you weren't here”

“I … I am still sick” Will feels tears swell inside him but he won’t let them break forth so he smiles trying to laugh but he sees heartbreak wash over Alana’s face. She touches his face and leans in close. Their faces are inches apart and their breath mingles. Her eyes search his with pity and sadness and his search hers with hope. When they at last meet Will feels an urge to leap forward and dive into her. To run away from all this with her, forget all the murders and death and live simply. She would be his escape.

“I know, I won’t let Jack keep letting you look.” She goes to touch his face once more but stops herself getting up and wrapping her arms around herself. “You clearly aren't getting better; I will speak to Hannibal about getting you some medication perhaps.”

“I am already taking medication”

“You haven’t been this bad before” Alana argues back, Will feels her anger like a wound. Not at him but at the situation, every time they are alone he feels her anguish at him at what they could but can’t be. So much sadness passes between them Will feels sick with it, even if his illness is over his brain will always keep them from being together. Will shifts uncomfortably he still can’t lie to her, “I have slept walked before, the night I went on leave”

“Hannibal didn't say, he just told us you were unfit for work. “ Her face collapse into sadness once again and Will thinks she is beautiful. She walks over and takes his wrist in her warm hands, Will’s stomach gives a feeble leap tinged with sadness and she is gone from him.

 

His attention follows her out the door to where Hannibal is standing concern on his face too now. Jack stands behind him glowering as the doctor enters the room and packs around Will, when he goes to the bathroom Jack finally enters, his eyes scan around before landing on Will.

“I need you to stay”

“Jack…”

“There are still people dying” Jack pauses for a moment and stares at Will with the look of a man searching for something. Something Will evidently didn't give him as he broke away, a hand to his mouth “No, you have to stay and help”

Hannibal came out of the bathroom and roughly taking Will’s arm once again, taking him like a hurricane he deposits him in the backseat of his car, coat swaddling him like a blanket and Will feels his eyes droop in the warmth of it. Leaning his head against the cold car window he watches through the water droplets as a tiny Hannibal and Jack argue. Hannibal is barely raising his voice but Will can feel it through the glass and it rumbles through him. He watches them fight two great beasts clashing in the rain, Hannibal a steadfast wall upon the waves of Jacks anger break with ferocious force. Then something changes and Hannibal grows somewhat before Jack and there is a shadow about him and Jack quells from it, his anger dies in his throat. Will falls close to sleep and a triumphant Hannibal strides to the car sliding into the front seat of the car without a word. His eyes meet Will’s in the mirror of the glass and there is a fire still smoldering there and Will feels safe again.

 

* * *

 

Will wakes again 12 hours later and he is in his cabin lain on top of Hannibal’s sheets, various dogs curled in the dip of his stomach and against his hip. He looks around and his bags are by the door but Hannibal is nowhere to be seen. With embarrassment he realizes Hannibal must have carried him in here and onto the plane, or had he driven them this far? He sits up and rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes. His head feels too heavy for his shoulders and it slumps, hanging between his shoulders, chin against his chest. Hannibal enters the cabin through the open door, sunlight streaming behind him. Will looks up and raises his eyebrows; Hannibal is wearing only a small pair of swimming trunks, a towel thrown over his shoulder. He takes the towel from his shoulder and begins to dry his hair with it, his hair becoming fluffy and light catching the sunlight to turn it golden. As he turns and drops the towel onto the back of one of the kitchen chairs Will catches a glance of small scratches on his back and his mind immediately goes to thought of lovers and he realizes he has been openly watching the doctor for a number of minutes. The doctor who was now standing in front of him saying something to him that Will wasn't hearing.

“Will? I did not expect you to be awake yet I am sorry” Hannibal waves a hand down his body and Will’s throat is dry making him swallow and his eyes fly sideways.

“How long was I out?”

“A very long time but you shall not be disturbed again I promise you. It was my mistake to allow Jack to push again before you were fully healed for that I can only apologize”

“No, no I had to do something I had to help” Will shakes his head and feels sick at the motion but Hannibal frowns and takes a seat at the table. Immediately Will is transported back to Hannibal’s study, the doctor sat opposite him asking of him something he was never particularly good at. Asking him to share of himself with another person while they try desperately and fail to understand.

“Will if you break your mind in the process what good will you be to these people. A broken savior is no savior of men Will; you cannot help in your condition”

“I was getting better”

“Yes you were” Hannibal replies sadly “But a setback is just another starting point” He gets up and strides to the his bag in the corner swooping gracefully to take a bottle of tablets from his bag while Will struggles to keep his eyes anywhere but on Hannibal state of dress. Luckily he is well versed in avoiding eye contact and he lets his eyes lose focus and the storm in his mind still raging from the night before is calmed somewhat.

“Please take these” and Will does so from Hannibal’s hands against his lips.

By the evening Will begins to feel more himself and the weight of his limbs returns and despite having slept most of the day he is weary. His hunger returns though and Hannibal provides a bountiful feast and interesting conversation. The killer had been caught while will slept.

“The war can be won without you Will. It is not on your shoulders alone” Hannibal reassures him hand settling on his own. The evening is warm and the lamplight soft and for a moment Will thinks he might just accept this, he might just have this, him and Hannibal and screw the rest of the world. He feels that Hannibal with his warm smile and loving care might say yes, there is always hope.

 

* * *

 

Will is standing beside the lake, he doesn't remember getting here. He doesn't know where Hannibal has gone. The cool air picks up around him and he realises he is dressed only in shorts and a shirt. The rain is cool on his skin and the wind picks and plays with his hair. He breathes in and slips on the soft bank falling with an icy splash into the water. For a moment he floats and then he feels himself being pulled into the water sinking beneath the surface and through waving green light. He is pulled along in the current till the water around him turns black and glitters with silt like stars. He is rising through it now towards the light above, higher and higher till he is breaking the surface. He is pushed up and out of the water landing lightly in the marshy undergrowth dark dirty water running off him in rivers down his legs leaving dark smudges on his legs and his arms. His toes sink into the dirt and mud slides between his toes, hidden sticks prick his feet like tiny daggers. In the distance a deer barks and he looks up. His eyes struggle to see through the mist. Suddenly a large black stag looms towards him fur wet and eyes wild, feathers shaking to clear out the damp. It advances on Will and he wants to run from it but he is stuck, pulling on his feet make him sink lower and lower into the mud. The deer dives towards him and Will puts out his hands to halt it. His hands curl in its fur, wet and slimy like seaweed it slides between his fingers; here and there the fur is dotted with thick black feathers harsh to the hand like razors but sleek and shining under the moonlight. Will grasps and is swung upwards, whisked from the water. He hangs in fear onto the stag who darts through the marsh and drops him heavily on the bank with a thick squelch. Pausing a moment it looks at him with burning eyes and turns to leave. Pain racks will’s body and he lies back looking at the moon. The light from it blinds him and it grows till its white light fills his eyes and a ringing plays in his ears.


	7. Submersion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's getting better or so he thinks.
> 
> Sorry it's a short one this time, the next chapter is quite a bit bigger I hope!

For it is important that awake people be awake,  
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;  
the signals we give--yes or no, or maybe--  
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep. 

**William Stafford**

 

Will perches in the dining chair his feet pulled up close against his thighs to keep them off the cold floor. Hannibal is across from him his own legs firmly on the ground flat and lean legs in a slim cotton suit. They are silent for the moment and Will is uncomfortable. He feels the urge to talk but he knows this trick, it is one that has been used on him before and he can play just as well. Hannibal smiles a little laugh beneath his breath and takes his notebook from the table he drops it open, runs a finger down the spine and begins to write. Will knows this trick too and instead of escalating he decides to look out of the small dusty window above the sink and across the lake to the burning rising sun. “Ok Will, how do you feel today?” Hannibal concedes finally with a nod to Will’s triumphant smirk.

“Like someone wearing a Will suit” Will feels like there is a wave inside threatening to well up side, his throat is suddenly heavy and he swallows back tears, “I can feel myself in my fingertips and in my head but I don’t feel what’s going on out here” Will struggles a smile but Hannibal just nods and remains silent,

“I think I am losing my mind”

“No Will, you are sick but you still have your mind, disassociation is the body’s way of removing itself from situations that it finds stressful. That is all that is happening, for a man who sees so much it must take a toll for the body to look so often” Hannibal shakes his head and goes once again to his bag of medicines. Will marvels at it a sleek black leather bag that opens into deep mahogany trays stacked atop each other to fold out in a spiral an array of pills and medicines glittering inside. Running his hands over the bottles Hannibal selects the one he looks for and shakes two small blue pills into his palm. Will doesn't move to take them so Hannibal concedes once more leaning forward and placing them in Will’s hand slowly and deliberately while maintain eye contact. For a moment Will is captivated like a mouse beneath a snakes glare, he has no thoughts but to please Hannibal, god how he wanted to please him. Will takes the pills swallowing them and glowing at the smile Hannibal gives him.

“I know who I am; it’s just sometimes I can feel myself slipping”

“I promise we will find a combination that will help you Will” “Sure” Will smiles the swelling returning and is interrupted by the shrill ringing of his phone lain on the desk next to Hannibal’s.

“Alana?” “Hey, how are you feeling?” Will pauses walking quietly outside while Hannibal returns to his tablet with a pointed raise of his eyebrows. Grateful for the stay on their session he creeps through the door and drops heavily onto the deck.

“I’m doing fine”

“Hannibal says you are still having the dreams”

“Are you two gossiping about me?”

“Just sharing between two concerned parties Will.”

“He doesn't seem that concerned” Will squints through the glass at the doctor eyes turned downward fingers tapping an unknown tune on the case of his tablet.

“It is easier to hide for him I think. You know me can’t hide anything from you.”

“We both know that’s not true.” Will smiles into the phone, but he knows he is hanging onto the whisper of their relationship. Especially after the latest incident he couldn't do that to her just as much as she couldn't do it to herself. Alana laughs and will can hear her smile when she talks.

“Did you have a dream last night?” Alana had called every day since he had returned to the cabin. Will thought maybe it was guilt, guilt for both Jack and Hannibal as well as her own for allowing Jack to push Will again. She had always been the most careful around Will and until recently the only one who had truly cared for him as something other than a tool. His only prospect for a happy future. Will’s eyes returned to the doctor, there were other prospects now. He and Alana couldn't work but he and Hannibal could. There was hope here there wasn't with her, a recognition of something in Hannibal ,something echoed in Will that called out to the other.

“Yes, but this one wasn't a bad dream really. They are getting better; we are getting closer to a medicine that will help.”

“Hannibal is still medicating you?” Alana sounded concerned “What has he prescribed?”

“I’m not sure doesn't he mention it when you have your little chats about me?” Will answers snappily he begins to feel attacked. The medicine is helping he doesn't want that to be taken away from him.

“No, no he doesn't “There a moment of silence and Will is immediately ashamed for snapping, “I’m just glad you are getting Will. Take care of yourself”

“I will” He hangs up and there is a hand on Will’s shoulder warm and strong.

“Will? I am going into town would like anything?” Will looks up and smiles.He watches as Hannibal leaves, stalking down the lane with grace and he muses on his dreams. He doesn't actually know if they are getting better or if he is just learning to accept them. Either way he has more control now then he ever did and it made him feel good.

* * *

 

Will casts his line far off into the distance as the raven feather stag paces behind him, its nose to the ground sniffing and puffing out swirling clouds as it moves. The weather is light and warm and the water still as glass. Its surface is disturbed and Will looks to see Alana in a long white dress walking towards him. There are tears sparkling in her eyes. “You can’t trust him Will” She pleads with him and her hands encircle his face. They are pale and cold like ice cutting through to the bone of Will’s face. Her eyes are like dark pools beneath the moonlight and her tears are an inky black as they stream down her face. She’s crying for him and he looks past her to see the stag stalking the bank behind. Behind him a hand reaches into his pockets, he looks down and the hand is black and charred, it takes out two pills and holds its palm flat. Will is too scared to turn abound so instead he stares into Alana’s eyes. He knows, the shadow of him falls across Alana’s dress, his antlers spreading higher and higher strangling her but she is still. She leans forward and kisses him, her mouth tastes coppery and when she pulls away blood dyes her teeth red and leaks from the corners of her mouth dripping and staining her dress. She sobs as she sinks into the black water. Will takes the pills willing them to rid him of the image but Alana fades further into the water, hands grasping forwards but Will no longer notices.


	8. Sublimation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal take a walk in the forest, Freddie turns up and so does a man with a gun.

Death levels all things in his march;  
Nought can resist his mighty strength;  
The palace proud, triumphal arch,  
Shall mete its shadow's length.  
The rich, the poor, one common bed  
Shall find in the unhonoured grave,  
Where weeds shall crown alike the head  
Of tyrant and of slave. 

**John Clare**

 

Will is seated at a large black table and laid before him a great feast. He is hungry so hungry and smiling he reaches forward grabbing handfuls of the food and stuffing them hurriedly into his mouth, swallowing without chewing. He grabs more and more but the food turns cold, grey and slimy in his hands, sliding over his palms and sloping back onto his plate. Black water spilling from it and staining the white tablecloth but Will is still so hungry and can’t help himself but grab for more. His stomach is full and uncomfortable and the cold slimy food churns inside but still he eats and is eyes prickle with tears at the pain of it. A calming hand rakes through his hair and a whisper is at his ear “That’s it Will, it’s OK” he leans forward to help guide the food to Will’s mouth, he turns to it opening his mouth like a baby bird as he is fed the food leaving sticky black marks around his mouth and on his cheeks. Will fights the hunger now, shaking his head and pushing the plate away. His feeder screams a terrible screech and there are claws at his throat holding his chin up and his mouth open he coughs as more food is forced down his throat and he chokes on it. He refuses to swallow and is pulled backwards onto the cold wooden floor and his back breaks and he is shattered into a million grey pieces. The world is in grey scale and at his feet a great and gaunt figure , horns shaking in the light that streams behind it obscuring it’s features its mouth opens and rows of pearly white teeth gleam white in the midst of the shadowy face, it leans down low to consume him.

 

* * *

 

It’s a bright when Will wakes sunlight streaming through every window in the tiny cabin and lighting it up to show every nook and cranny. Will smiles, his bad dream immediately forgotten as he looks around, his and Hannibal’s stuff mingled together , dogs sunbathing with sleepy eyes and barely wagging tails , the sun keeping them warm in the space between awake and asleep. Hannibal is sitting on his bed legs crossed at the ankle as he reads on his tablet. The light fills him up too and Will swears he can see it shining from his eyes and in the golden strands of his hair. “Good morning Will, I though perhaps after breakfast you might show me the woodland around here?”

Will smiles wide and easy and sliding down from the ladders he nods in agreement his back cracking as he reaches up to stretch. He feels happy and safe. Taking up his diary to write the newest dream isn't a task as much as it has been and he is able to get it written down without much thought as Hannibal buzzes around him in the kitchen. When they finally step out the door of the cabin they turn to each other for a moment as the dogs streak off before them. For a moment Will is embarrassed as Hannibal’s smile shines at him and he wants to reach out and grab his hand or kiss him or something. For once Hannibal doesn't break the moment and Will begins to panic as the doctor turns towards him and moves closer. They are interrupted by the sounds of a car pulling up the long dirt track to the cabin. Will turns his head and his smile falters. Freddie’s hair shines like fire in the sun as she gracefully rises from the car hands dug deep in her pockets.

“Well isn't this just cozy” she offers coming to halt ten feet ahead of them equal distant between her car and the pair.

“What are you doing here?” Will asks through gritted teeth visibly bristling at her.

“I came to see what you were up to Graham” She steps forward pacing, “Disappearing away without any notice to anyone it would seem, and just when the ripper decides to take a little break?” Hannibal steps sharply forward and Freddie’s eyes widen but she doesn't step back,

“Will is here as part of his therapy, I think it is rather rude of you to turn up where you are unwelcome and interrupt the healing of my patients”

“Patient, huh” Freddie laughs a little under breath looking between them with her eyebrows raised, “I can’t quite help but notice you have not explained the sudden and might I say concurrent disappearance of the Chesapeake ripper. Care to comment Will or will Hannibal be your spokesman”

“The ripper has his own reasons for having not killed again but I am not party to it, there have been longer periods between kills than this and you know it. If you have only come here to spread your poison and gain a rise out of me you are looking in the wrong place. I am not the ripper” Will answers suddenly tired again, his sunny day begins to fade before his eyes and the warmth isn't so warm anymore.

“I think William has said all he is going to say Miss Lounds, I will say again you are not welcome, please leave”

She does leave with a quirk of a smile, happy with the reaction she had manged to gain , a thousand inflammatory articles spinning in her mind like webs.Their woodland walk is cancelled for the day and Will spends the rest of it out on the deck building a large shack out by the lake for the dogs to lay in when the summer heat gets too much for them, he pads it with dusty blankets from the linen cupboard and sits in it with his back till the evening turns dark. Hannibal takes the time to go into town and get supplies and Will is suspicious but grateful that Hannibal is giving him some space. In truth he had wanted to strangle Freddie, he had been shaking with it and willing himself to just strangle those acidic words out of her until she couldn't lie about him anymore. Of course that would mean she was right and knew the truth, not that he was the Chesapeake ripper but that deep down in the pit of him, although he feared it and kept it hidden, deep down Will was a killer.

* * *

 

The next day is as warm as the one before and Hannibal asks once more for a tour of the woodlands, the sun's warmth doesn't quite reach all the way inside anymore but he agrees. As they walk they talk about the trees and the land and the history of the area and Will’s history there but not about the day before, not about the ripper and not about Freddie. It is pleasant and quiet, so quiet in fact both turn to see the man holding the gun at the same time. Will is far ahead in the process of freeing a dog, it’s collar caught in a tangle of brambles. Hannibal is far behind and waiting on the path; he steps smartly behind a tree unseen and unnoticed by the man his focus solely on Will. “Hello Mr Graham”

“Hello, who are you?” Will asks and tries to walk towards the man to disarm him but the gun is cocked and he stops. “I am going to be the man who finally killed the Chesapeake ripper”

“I’m not the Chesapeake ripper” Will says slowly willing his eyes to stay on the man and not on Hannibal as he makes a slow advancement behind the man.

“Yes you are” The man is laughing high and desperate and he fumbles clumsily in his pocket pulling out a stack of paper clippings, the ripper’s murders and Freddie’s articles printed out, parts circled in red, “You are the ripper and I am the hero to stop you.”

“You are mistaken I am not the ripper, I am trying to catch the ripper” Will nods earnestly hands beginning to shake as the man moves forwards his eyes alight and hands sweaty and shaking on the trigger. He would pull the minute Will gave him a reason to he would kill him right here and he would feel justified. This man is the ripper and when everyone sees what he has done how he has saved them all at last they would see him. He would be a hero he would be admired he would be seen. The gun is against his forehead now and Will’s heart is beating a mile a minute. He thinks for a second he might die here in this woodland, miles from his little home in Wolftrap unable to prove his innocence. People will remark on his death as a tragedy whilst under their breath remarking but what if, until the ripper kills again and then they will lament for the innocent heroic death and talk about him like they knew or cared for him at all with flowery words as all innocent deaths are talked about. At least Freddie’s career may be ruined in all this and those who doubted him might feel it or maybe not, not that he would know.

Hannibal is behind the man now and he turns in a moment to see Hannibal before he is barreled to the floor, Will dives from shooting range behind the tree and the gun goes off as the two men wrestle. In the craziness of the moment Will’s mind is turned to his dogs and his eyes looking blindly around for them hoping none of them are injured. He is breathing hard and his chest hurts, his ears ring and he can’t see. He wonders if he had been shot and if he is dying, his mind suddenly comes into sharp focus when he hears a muffled yelp behind him. He feels like an idiot he has put no thought to Hannibal wrestling on the floor with the crazed man and he pokes out from the tree to see Hannibal get the upper hand, straddling the man he punches him hard in the face and the man’s head snaps back hitting a rock hidden in the undergrowth and his body goes immediately limp. Hannibal just looks down at him chest heaving, he brings and hand to his face and wipes the blood from the cut on his cheek. Stepping over the man he hurries to Will and takes his face in his hands but Will’s attention is still on the body in the woods. He looks into his dead eyes which stare back at him. Will thinks he is pitiful a former human a slab of meat. They might as well leave him here in the woods to be eaten by insects and forgotten just like he was in life. A man with little thought to his life bumbling around with the rest of the cattle trying to elevate himself to a hero and only achieving a lonely death and to be labelled crazy as he certainly will be by vultures like Freddie. Freddie who will feel no guilt at pointing this loaded gun of a man at Will with no thought. She may not have known him but she must have known what her stories could inspire. She will paint this in a very different way to the rest however, those who will seek to degrade this man, she will say what if? Like she always says, yes but what if Will is who she thinks he is? What if this man is as innocent as Will is? Will begins to shake he isn't he realizes, he is guilty of killing others and he doesn't feel any true regret over this man’s death, this man who he knows nothing off but what he felt from him what his empathy read of him. A lonely man who wants to be noticed, something Will can’t understand he only wants to be left alone.

Hannibal is talking to him cupping his face in his hands. He has no concern for the man either, only for Will. He wraps an arm around his shoulders and leads him out of the forest. Will is numb somehow but he can feel Hannibal’s heat along his side. It’s the closest they have ever been he thinks and is sick with himself for being happy at that. Jack arrives in a hailstorm of flashing lights and stern suspicion, but Hannibal keeps Will from it carefully explaining to Jack, leading him to the body. He takes all the blame and weathers Jack’s angry questions. No he does not know the man, no he had never seen him before, no Will had never seen him, what exactly happened in the forest. The science team swarm Will instead and in contrast to Jacks hot blustery anger their warm concern is evident. Even Zeller is sympathetic as he swabs Wills hands and clothes for traces of blood.

“We think he must of followed Hannibal back from town, knew you were staying here from Miss Lounds article” He spits her name like it’s rotten and Price takes his turn in front of Will as Beverly slides his coat off, offering him a jumper Hannibal had lain out when the team arrived.

“You know Jack had her dragged in on charges of conspiracy” He shoots a grin over Will’s shoulder to Zeller and continues his work, “But we don’t think it will stick, such a shame” The team is shooed away and Jack attempts his tactics on Will but he is so tired by now he refuses to give Jack the fight he is clearly looking for and only manages to collaborate Hannibal’s turn of events.

Then the whole lot of them are gone in another flurry and they are alone at last. “You didn't have to do that for me” Will says staring at the floor, Hannibal turns from the door and smiles , he glides over and sits beside Will at the kitchen table, taking his hand.

“Yes I did Will”

“You killed a man for me”

“It is unfortunate he had to die to save you yes” Hannibal pauses and smiles “But I would do it again if it were to keep you safe William” Will inhales and they are impossibly close once again.

“I would too…” Will whispers and he feels like he’s standing on the edge, he just wants to jump. Hannibal’s face is so close and he licks his lips, it would be so easy just to fall.


	9. Vapour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick little chapter - sorry for the delay

We were awakened in the dark by  
the somnambulist brook  
nearing the sea,  
still dreaming audibly. 

**Elizabeth Bishop**

Will is sitting out on the edge of the water, the straw-like grass is flattened beneath him like cardboard, it’s rough against his thighs and his feet drag in the cold water. He watches the dogs swimming in the water and thinks about the man they killed. Will is just as guilty he thinks; he feels as though he killed him with his bare hands and the thought that scares him the most is that it this doesn’t bother him. What actually bothers him most is that this only increased his attraction to Hannibal, Hannibal is who is now bathing in the sun legs crossed loosely and hands folded on his chest. In fact Hannibal looks more calm and at home here at their cabin then he had ever done. Will thinks it’s odd that even he seems unaffected by this man’s death. They discuss it over dinner like it was something they had seen in a movie, like a theoretical death that didn’t happen to them or to anyone. The man they killed nothing more than a fiction made to bring them closer together. Hannibal smiles when Will tells him this.

“Will, that man was not a fiction. He was as real as you or I” He sits in the seat beside Will, his usual seat across from him and Will frowns, “and his death has significance. In the process of his death he was elevated to something of meaning” Will nods but his mind is empty, he stares ahead and sees the man lifted from the muddy ground of the forest, arms spread and angelic, he is a beautiful sign. He had achieved what he had set out to do, he was more than the nothing his life had become. Will could see him now and his purpose, not to catch the Chesapeake ripper and be seen a hero and not to be seen as a crazy pathetic man killed on a fool’s errand, but a man forced by the courage of a redeemer and the sadness of the lonely to attempt to rise above what he was. He succeeds in rising above and being seen, his face spread across every paper and news station, his name heard on every bulletin. He wasn’t a footnote anymore he wasn’t wasted. He shows the truth in trying to become a hero, all it leads to is death. Will and Hannibal succeeded in showing him that, they succeeded together.

* * *

 

Will is in the forest, it’s dark and misty but the sun threatens to rise on the horizon. The smog tinged a faint purple as the sun begins to peek behind the trees. In the distance Will sees a deer, small and brown it’s hard to sight against the undergrowth. Will stops hoping not to spook it as it heads towards him. It halts 20 feet ahead of him and stills, its eyes raised in fear and time feels like it is hanging around them. Will raises his gun and eyes down the sights but he hasn’t got the shot. Any movement could spook the animal so he remains crouched low behind the tree, willing it to just turn so he could end this terrible moment. The moment between life and death, the life held in his hands and the death that will become of them. There is a bark far off in the distance and the deer starts. It gallops away but its progress is slow in the dense woodland. Will follows close behind. The deer’s breath comes out in puffs that curl around its black eyes as it darts two and fro in desperation. The deer leaps to cross a small gulley but it lands on a crumbling bank, it’s back flipped over itself in its speed and Will hears a loud crack .The animal falls to the ground with a dull thump. Walking over to it Will crouches down, its eyes are still wide but it can’t move, its drooling and blowing bubbles out of its nose .Its eyes start rolling in its head , the muscles in it’s neck clutching desperately as it tries to move.

Will drops to his knees taking its head in his lap and stroking down its neck feeling the fur there, his tears spread onto the fur with every stroke. Leaning down to kiss its face lightly he pulls his short handled knife from his pocket and stabs once to the heart .He watches as the light dims in the animal’s eyes. She had been beautiful. - Will wakes breathing heavily his shirt is soaked with sweat and he blinks his eyes to clear them. He was crying sliding to the edge of the mezzanine he looks down and catches Hannibal, glass of water in hand back on his way to his bed.

“Will, you had another dream?” he asks and Will nods dumbly turning and shifting till he drops unceremoniously from the level with a soft thump. Hannibal places a warm hand against Will’s back and it’s like fire against Will’s skin. He begins to shiver, the adrenaline from his dream quickly pouring from him and he is so so tired. He doesn’t speak and Hannibal makes no effort to push him, instead he slides his palm further across Will’s back and gathers him in a close embrace mouth pressed dryly to Will’s forehead. “It is ok Will; it was a dream, nothing more” Will begins to sob and turns into the embrace bringing his arms, heavy and numb, to wrap around Hannibal. Hannibal pulls him down till they are both seated on the edge of his bed.

“It is hard to watch a man die, it is difficult to not feel guilty about this” he pulls Will’s face up and meets his eyes. Will looks into them and sees himself.” You should not feel guilty for being a survivor, William” Hannibal rubs his thumb lightly against the height of Will’s flushed cheek.

“Yes” Will murmurs and leans heavily against he doctors shoulder. He feels the cold now more and tries to delve further into Hannibal’s heat. Hannibal laughs slightly under his breath and taking his blankets back guides Will to lie down against his pillows. He lies besides him and Will feels his heat down the length of his side. His eyes are so heavy and his body so cold. They curl together and Will feels safe.


	10. Lour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> William accepts and Hannibal is victorious.

##### I long for truth, and yet  
I cannot stay from that  
My better self disowns,  
For a man's attention  
Brings such satisfaction  
To the craving in my bones.  
  
Brightness that I pull back  
From the Zodiac,  
Why those questioning eyes  
That are fixed upon me?  
What can they do but shun me  
If empty night replies?

**William Butler Yeats**

 

It is three weeks till they go back to Baltimore, Will releases the dogs from the car and laughs as they all rush immediately to the door of his little house. Hannibal follows him helping to carry the bags as dogs rush around them in excitement. They stand awkwardly on the threshold for a moment and Will pauses to watch the dust thrown up by his pets in the sunlight. He breathes in deep and it smells like home and he puts a foot forward onto the solid floor. He is home but he is not alone. Will turns to Hannibal who remains in the doorway like a vampire waiting to be asked in, a pleasant smile on his face. Warmth radiates from him and Will wants to drag in inside and not let him leave.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”  Will asks not ready yet to let Hannibal leave and give up the floating feeling he had been swimming in since that night spent just sleeping next to him. Thier relationship hadn’t changed much but there was closeness in the way they interacted that wasn’t there before. Hannibal would touch him, on the arm, or on the shoulder. He would listen to Will’s worst dreams and he would understand him. In the bubble of their cabin it was all he needed. Outside of that Will felt the cold of the real world, a world where he doesn’t fit, where he is apart from others. He just can’t connect the same way. He can empathise with people see how they react but how is he supposed to react to other people he just didn’t know. Hannibal removed that when they were together, he allowed Will to react however he wanted, even if that reaction is one that would be seen as terrible by other people.

Hannibal smiles and placing the bags to one side as he stride forward stripping off his jacket and scarf to head for the kitchen. “I suppose a trip to the store is in order?” He calls from as he opens cupboards in search of food.

“Er… yeah just give me a list” Will smiles and sits on his bed for a moment and runs his hand through the fur of Winston who leaps up to lay his head on Will’s lap. Once again Will is struck by the domesticity and his heart aches in his chest. Wrapping Hannibal’s scarf around his neck he heads for the store, small piece of paper curled in his pockets. He takes it out as he walks down the road to his house and inspects the curling text, this he could get used to.

They drink and eat the rest of the evening away in the low light of the fire and by midnight it is too dark and too cold for Hannibal to leave. There is no question when he removes his sleep wear from his smart leather suitcase and takes to Will’s bed. In his drunken haze even Will couldn’t find it in him to worry as he joins Hannibal, his bed small but room enough for both if they curl together.

Will breathes in Hannibal scent, just has he had that first night. This time he is happy however, he is within himself. He knows that he wants this and Hannibal wants it too. All he has to do is take it.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next morning Hannibal is woken as a large flat rock crashes through the window beside Will’s bed. He opens his eyes and stares at it for a moment and upon realising that both Will and the dogs are gone, that he is alone and apparently under attack, he rolls off the opposite side of the bed just as a leg appears kicking out the remnants of the window. Hannibal crouches on his haunches behind the bed, wrists dragging against the floor and legs primed to leap forward against the intruder. The aggressor climbs haphazardly through the broken glass and lands. He pauses, looking around and swinging his head viciously, his vision obscured by a poorly made balaclava. He body is tense, his fists curled and breath coming heavy and he surveys the room. His eyes connect with the crouched Hannibal who rises slowly and turns his head slightly taking in the full measure of the man opposite. The man is not carrying a visible weapon and Hannibal assumes he came here without much planning.

“Who are you?” Hannibal asks simply and the man shifts slightly throwing his fists forward in a semi state of defence, searching for security behind them, he hadn’t expected to find an awake and unafraid man when he had thought about this.

“You should fucking know, was you or your little boyfriend who did it?”

Hannibal raises an eyebrow and takes an experimental foot forward; the man backs away slightly but not enough. He isn’t sure what he came here to do but his anger is palpable, unpredictable. For a moment Hannibal’s mind is thrown to Will.

“I’m not sure what it is you are asking me?” Hannibal says feigning ignorance and he scans around for a weapon. He knows where this is going. The man’s face scrunches into an ugly scowl beneath, his mask his eyes are black slits and his teeth are bared. He rushes forward, a tank of power that surprises even Hannibal who connects mid dodge and is thrown to the round. The two men wrestle for purchase on the wooden floor. Hannibal’s bare skin is torn by the glass on the floor. He recoils from the pain and the assailant is atop of him, he begins to punch Hannibal, making his head snap to and fro. His vision begins to blur and he can’t think through the static. Hannibal wonders if this pitiful end is what will become of him. Not really befitting for a man of his talents but there is little he can do about it now. He can’t feel his body and his mouth is drooling long blood red streaks, eyes rolling in his head with the force of the blows. The man stops, mumbling something Hannibal doesn’t catch scrabbling backwards he tries to get to his feet, resolving instead to crawl through the front door. His anger disappeared and the red fog lifted he tries to make his escape.

Hannibal hears a shout from the doorway and a thick leather boot connects with the man’s chin. He is thrown up and backwards back through the door and Will is leant down low over him, pulling the assailant roughly by the hair he drags him to his feet. He curls a fist back and lands it on the man’s cheekbone, splitting it open and sending him spiralling into the front door. Will is on him, hands wrapped strongly around his neck and Will’s mouth is a drawn snarl. The man coughs weakly and hands come up to Will’s hands but he is unrelenting, eventually they fall limp. Hannibal crawls back and watches as Will holds on until the man is still, eyes staring into his as the life drains away. When the man is dead he lets him drop like a heavy weight and putting no more thought to him turns to Hannibal. 

He walks over and his angers dissipates as he leans down low, taking Hannibal’s bruised and bloodied face in his hands. He strokes lightly on Hannibal’s wounds. He heart is thumping in his chest and all he can hear is a rushing in his ears. He just killed a man, a man who had been running away despite the damage he had done to the doctor. Will knew this but he had wanted to kill him anyway and he had. This man had come here to hurt him, to hurt Hannibal. That was his mistake.

Hannibal smiles up at Will and covers his hand with his own. “Thank you Will” He whispers and Will kisses him, ferocious and wild. His hands dive into Hannibal’s hair and the blood from his wounds mixes in their mouths.

They break away to sounds of the dogs snarling. Will frowns and sends them scattering with a flick of his hand. His stomach flips and his vision blurred. He killed a man and now the urge to kill has fled and he is left with blackness inside, empty and wide. The man was strangled; he had been trying to get away. The team would see that and he would be parted from Hannibal, thrown into that so called hospital for Chilton to do with as he wants. He looks to Hannibal again.

“What am I going to do?”

“Well, I suppose Jack will ask many things” Hannibal answers and there is laughter in his voice. Will is lost as Hannibal carefully plans, a hand running smooth circles in the small of Will’s back.

Will is sent outside to make a bonfire, stacking wood till it’s higher than his head. He works out the last of his anger on the wood as he chops, throwing his axe with force and listening for the satisfying thud. He is joined shortly by Hannibal who is carrying the man; he lays him amidst the wood like a funeral pyre and begins to spray the stack with gas. When the pyre is soaked he stands back and takes Will’s hand.

“This is your task William, you have to honour him” Will takes a branch and soaking in the fluid lights it. He stares into the flames for a moment and cycles through all the significance fire has held in the burial of the dead throughout history. There is no significance here, this isn’t a cleansing, this isn’t a way to aid the man’s souls passage. This is counter forensics, a way to burn away evidence to burn away what Will did, but it won’t work and the dark spot of this man’s death with forever be with him, he is the one who ended this life. Everything this life experienced is nothing now, Will did that and it makes him feel powerful. Dropping the branch he watches as the flames crawl towards the body, its hair curling and disintegrating in the heat, the body becoming ashes before his eyes. He sees his reflection in the man’s eyes, hand in hand with Hannibal, fire burning at their feet and he smiles.

 

* * *

 

Will shuffles uncomfortably in his suit. The months since have not removed his sense of anxiety in company despite Hannibal’s best efforts and many social arrangements. This will be the first time they are publicly together as a couple and Will is nervous, Hannibal is often the centre of attention at events a social butterfly that is able to meld into any group.   This a ball in honour of a local charity is to be the setting for his debut into the high society of Baltimore, not a place he would ever expect to get on his own, not a natural place for a man of his issues. The fact they even were seen next to noted serial killer Will Graham and his crazy Doctor lover who killed a man in the woods who was only trying to stop their rampage, or so Freddie Lounds had said. The article lasted only a day on her website as they were quickly lauded as tragic heroes in the local newspapers and their story as quickly forgotten as their first victim. Hannibal had shown Will his own potential and now was seeking to show that potential to others, Will understood this but still he yearned for his quiet home.

He enters the ballroom and the walls are vaulted white, lit with large glass chandeliers and red torches along the wall. Hannibal is dancing in the centre of the dance floor, holding gently to the waist of a beautiful woman as he glides elegantly round the floor and Will laughs to himself as Hannibal turns to him, smiling as he spots him in the crowd. He stops the dance and inclining his head once to his partner turns back to Will, holding up a hand to invite him forward. The crowd around Will parts smiling and clasping their hands in front of their bodies, whispering behind their hands as Will moves forward.

 Hannibal shakes his head as antler grow out from under his hair, as black and sleek as his suit, smile widening to reveal pointed white teeth. He takes Will’s hand and they begin the dance. Swinging and twirling in the air Will feels himself drawn closer and closer into the blackness that billows out from beneath the deep red curtains around them, his head resting against Hannibal’s chest he feels once again as though he is floating inside of himself. Will licks his own teeth in his mouth and they taste like blood. His head is burning and looking up he sees flames alight in Hannibal’s eyes, the burning crown of flowers above his head. They are floating together now, free of every weight and they will take the earth.


End file.
